Playing and Eating

 

1/30/26 Panama Hotel Cafe, Chinatown/International District

The Panama Hotel Café is one of our favorite places to sketch. Roy, Mary Jean and I hadn’t been able to get together since before Christmas, so it was especially fun to meet up there for a morning of art play. My view (at left) wasn’t especially fun to sketch, but I didn’t care; the Panama’s ambiance is quiet, relaxing and, we all agreed, comfortable as a second home.

More fun was when we began our portrait party. Taking turns as the sitter, we made blind contour drawings and also sketched with our non-dominant hand. Hilarious both ways!

Mary Jean with my right hand

Mary Jean as blind contour

Roy as blind contour

Roy with my right hand

For lunch we tried E-Jae Pak-Mor, a Thai restaurant that had received a favorable review recently in the Seattle Times. With many items on the menu that I don’t see on typical Thai menus, it was clear why the Times called it one of Seattle’s best restaurants. I hastily sketched my Pakmor salad bowl before devouring it.

E-Jae Pak Mor (journal page incorrectly dated)

Full of that delicious lunch, I still had one thing that had been weighing heavily on my mind all day: Jan. 30 was National Croissant Day! Where would I get a croissant in Chinatown/International District? Googling “croissants near me” yielded literally nothing within walking distance, but MJ recalled seeing croissants at Fuji Bakery. I’d only ever had their amazing Crunchy Creamy Malasada doughnut, which had blinded me to all other pastries at the time, but sure enough, Fuji offered many types of croissants, too. It was just as well that they have only a takeout counter and no seating area, as I was too full for one just then – but take one out I did.

Later at home, I enjoyed my pain au chocolat, relieved not to miss observing one of my favorite holidays of the year.

Eating and drawing with good friends – does it get any better?

Self-Care in Monochrome

 

1/28/26 photo reference (Derwent Drawing pencil in Zeta sketchbook)

Wanting to finish up that old Stillman & Birn Beta sketchbook, which has a substantial tooth, I had been making my comfy, monochrome sketches in it. Although toothy paper is not usually recommended with soft colored pencils, I like it – the visible tooth imparts a rougher, unpolished look.

I had been thinking, though, how dreamy Derwent Drawing pencils would feel on smooth paper. After the Beta book was full, I pulled out a Stillman & Birn Zeta book, and holy-moly, my comfy, old robe grew a fleece lining! Not only did these sketches prevent me from doomscrolling; they quietly lulled me toward bedtime with their soothing comfort. I mean, seriously: Is there anything so relaxing as a soft pencil on smooth paper?

During these difficult times, when we’re bombarded with upsetting news daily, it’s reassuring to know that self-care can come from a colored pencil.

1/29/26 photo reference (two Drawing pencils used in this one)

Time Capsule

 

Eleven years to finish this sketchbook.

Only a few pages remained in this old Stillman & Birn Beta sketchbook, which I began 11 years ago. I just finished filling them with my doomscrolling prevention program and other recent sketches made from photos at home.

The first several pages has sketches from Chandler O'Leary's workshop.

One reason it took so long to finish is that the book is spiralbound, a format I don’t like using in the field. Back then, with only a few years of sketching experience under my belt, I was still experimenting with different sketchbook papers and formats, and I didn’t know yet which worked best for me.

Thumbing through it before finally putting the book away on my completed sketchbook shelves, I felt a wave of nostalgia, poignancy and even sadness. The very first sketches in the book were those I made in an urban sketching workshop with Chandler O’Leary. They’re dated June 27, 2015. On a very hot day, we looked for compositions and made thumbnails at Lake Union Park. My memories, embedded in the pages, are bittersweet now because Chandler died in 2023 at the age of 41.

Lots of still lives

That workshop must have been where I realized I don’t like working around a cumbersome wire binding when I’m on location, as those are the only urban sketches in the book. Among the squashes, pencil sharpener and other still lives is my beloved “Stefano” portfolio. Sadly, I had decided that the beautiful, custom-made sketchbook cover, which had traveled with me to five countries, was no longer meeting my needs.

Exercises from Gal Cohen's online workshop

I also see some color swatches and media testing. After a long gap in time, I see assignments and exercises from Gal Cohen’s online workshop in 2024. The last dozen or so pages are some wacky palette experiments and other recent sketches.

Testing various water-soluble techniques

For many years now, my goal has been to minimize the number of sketchbooks I have in progress because I prefer to work through each one chronologically as much as possible. (That might be the goal, but I’m sure I still have a dozen going on concurrently.) I don’t like wide gaps of time within a book, and I certainly don’t want to take 11 years to fill one! Still, looking through this old Beta gave me a time capsule effect that I don’t get from looking at a sketchbook that I’ve filled in a few months. It’s precious in a different way.

Drippy acrylic inks?

Like a Comfy Robe

 

1/28/26 photo reference (Chocolate Derwent Drawing pencil in Stillman & Birn Beta sketchbook)

Sometimes my Doomscrolling Prevention Program turns into simple media appreciation.

I began making monochrome mark-making exercises with an Ivory Black Derwent Drawing pencil because the set happened to be handy on my desk. It seemed like a good substitute for a soft graphite pencil, and it is. After having made several sketches with it, though, it’s much more than that: It’s like pulling on a comfy, old robe.

1/27/26 photo reference (Ivory Black Drawing pencil)

Unlike Holbein, which I deemed to be the colored pencil closest to graphite in the way it feels and applies, Derwent Drawing doesn’t feel like graphite; it’s too creamy and “lipsticky” for that. But that creaminess is what makes it so comforting to apply. A super-soft Japanese graphite pencil (8B? 10B?) would also feel luxuriously wonderful, but it would also smudge way more than a Drawing pencil does. And unlike graphite, Drawing pencils impart no reflective shine, so they appear as matte as velvet.

Although my monochrome sketches began as loosening-up exercises inspired by Orla Stevens’ YouTube, they morphed into value studies and then into basic monochrome sketches. It’s been a long time since I sketched in monochrome, and I’d forgotten how much I love this elegant simplicity, especially while “wearing” a comfy, old robe.

A Record of Lives

11/19/25

11/19/25

When I first began spending time in the memory care area, I used to feel uncertain about sketching the residents, wondering if it was invasive. While I have no issue with sketching random fellow passengers on public transportation, I feel more protective toward the residents. The more I get to know them as individuals, however, the more I felt compelled to honor them by drawing them. Even sharing the sketches publicly is an acknowledgment: They live, they exist, they are not hidden away.

11/10/25

11/27/25

In the past year or so, several residents have passed away. I didn’t sketch all of them, but I’m glad that I did sketch Val, Bob and Brian. As I said in one of those posts, each sketch we make of any person might be a record of the last time we see them. (This seems to be a variation of a recurring theme for me lately.)

11/29/25

12/2/25

12/9/25

12/13/25

12/16/25

12/20/25

12/22/25

12/28/25

Color in the Bleakness

 

1/27/26 Green Lake Park

After a couple of weeks – weeks! – of much-needed daily sunshine, a thin but consistent cloud cover finally came in on Tuesday. On my walk to Green Lake, I thought about how I could challenge myself in all that flat light: In the same way that a “nothing” view helps me to focus on values, an especially bleak, colorless one would force me to eke out both the color and the values.

Foreground trees, background trees, grass – with all the values and even the hues mostly the same, I had to squint hard to make out any distinctions. Using two colors in my current Caran d’Ache Museum Aquarelle palette, I made the foreground trees way warmer and more vibrant than they appeared in reality. Then I used a blend of two cool colors for everything else. While I exaggerated the intensity, I think the values are generally realistic.

Using the values-based color ideas that I’ve been consciously thinking about lately, I’ll be darned if the color temperature concepts I had been thinking about last year crept in unconsciously! I didn’t notice until I was done. Huh – I guess my brain had been listening after all.

Color notes: Shown below is my current daily-carry watercolor pencil palette of mostly Museum Aquarelles and one Derwent Inktense. (No. 106 is crossed out because I eliminated it during trials when I realized it was too close to 599 to be useful.) It’s an amusing palette: Except for Inktense 760 (Deep Violet), which I have used frequently, all the other colors are ones that I chose by length, deliberately looking for pencils I have rarely used beyond swatching. I’m sure I’ve never used them for urban sketching because they don’t “match” anything I would normally see in my everyday Seattle environment. I’m having a ball using unusual hues without feeling like I’m randomly throwing in whatever.

Current everyday-carry pencil palette

A Chance Meeting

 

1/26/26 (photo reference)

Laura and I had not been close friends, but we had been friends a long time – nearly 40 years.

We ran into each other at Swansons Nursery a couple of years ago, where I was attending an Urban Sketchers outing. We didn’t have much time to chat, but I had snapped a selfie of us – one that clearly captured her sometimes goofy nature. We laughed, hugged, and vowed to get together soon for a better chat.

Wanting to let her know what was going on in my life, I went home and emailed her that I was in the throes of caregiving duties. Compassionate and supportive, Laura invited me to get together for coffee. I said it was difficult at the time, but that I would get back in touch when I could. I always meant to, once my life was put back together.

A recent Facebook post informed me that Laura had passed away the day before. I did not even know that she had had cancer. We never know when a chance meeting with someone might be the last time we see them.